


Fire Emblem: Gambit

by Lolk



Category: Fire Emblem Series
Genre: AU, All OC characters, F/F, F/M, Fire Emblem - Freeform, M/M, Multi, War, incomplete tagging, ruthlessness, shipper fuel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 06:46:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8391346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lolk/pseuds/Lolk
Summary: Three nations sit upon the continent of Halesere: Wyrdholding, Friegid, and Eternia. For many decades, the three had maintained a precarious yet prosperous balance of power. That balance was set on fire and thrown out the window when Friegid and Eternia simultaneously declared war on each other, leaving Wyrdholding to throw up its hands in baffled frustration. To avoid being consumed by the war, the ruling couple of Wyrdholding assigned Princess Claire, youngest of three daughters, to form a group of soldiers with which the King could influence the war. Along with her Tactician, Micah, Claire seeks to end the war between Eternia and Friegid, no matter what.





	

# Fire Emblem: Gambit

## Prologue

Sometimes, Micah wondered why she even bothered making plans. They never went right. Here was a perfectly good example unfolding in front of her. The plan was simply: Princess Claire goes scouting while Micah would remain at the tavern to question the locals and hold down fort. Simple, right?  
_Sparks flew as her sword scrapped along another, smacking the enemy swordsman’s only defense away before frying him with a blast of fire._  
Apparently not.  
Having dealt with all her opponents within reach, she takes a moment to survey the situation. Zoey and Rhett were outside the front of the tavern, the large open area giving their mounts a huge advantage over the bandits. Meanwhile, Forte was finishing off the last of the initial group who had made it to the watering hole, somewhat ironically named "The Watering Hole". She waves. Micah glares, wishing Forte would pay more attention to her surroundings.  
“Forte! Can you tell how many are left?” she calls from across the room, striding over to take up position by the only entrance into the semi-fortified tavern. What was left of the village militia (if you could call five buildings circling a grass clearing a village) was holding the balcony in case any bandits got the bright idea to try climbing up the outside of the building. They’d be fine. She’d had time to observe them before everything went to hell, and between the surprisingly competent blacksmith and the healer they could certainly handle something as sparse as a balcony. _‘The healer’s actually pretty good, maybe we could recruit her…? No, best not rob the village of someone that important.’_ Scruples, aside, they did need a larger group. Unfortunately, Claire would not approve of it, and without the more socially adept Princess Micah couldn't convince a monkey to put on a mask.  
Micah arrived next to Forte, book at her side and sword in hand. The Witch shakes her head at her Commander. “It isn’t good Micah. Our pet cavaliers are mighty indeed, but there's a lot more bandits on the way.” Tactician and Witch looked in unison at the Physic staff, then at it’s dimming orb. Micah coughs. “And Claire?” “On her way, but she’ll have to get through the bandits first.” Micah looks over at the forest Claire had slipped into along with Bridget and Quintin. What if she had encountered enemy forces? A raging manakete? Bears? What if- “Micah! Snap out of it you paranoid git!” The Tactician is awoken from her worries, by Forte shaking her by the shoulders. “She’ll be fine Micah. Now come on, unless you planned on not supporting our riders?” she finishes with pointed look. Micah groans; she hated being called out by anyone, Forte especially. Shaking off the hands on her shoulders, she raises a hand glowing with Fire while Forte gathers a writhing mass of darkness in the palm of her hand. Micah glances at it with a small amount of surprise. “Nosferatu?” Forte shrugs. “I’m not as good at taking hits as you, little miss bastion. Don’t worry, I’ll swap to Fire next; I know you hate consuming rare tomes.” she says with a teasing smirk. Micah turns away, grumbling as a she nails a fighter in the head with a blast of fire.  
True to her word, Forte swaps to the much cheaper and more common Fire tome, and together the two of them provide covering fire for the Cavaliers. This left Micah free to worry about the fate of her Princess and best scout, running through scenarios and clutching the gravel-colored rose pin on her coat. _‘Claire. Where ARE you?’_

*************

Claire slide her sword out of the corpse of the Eternia soldier. Poor luck for her, really. Of all the people she could’ve encountered in friendly territory, she and her unit stumbled across Claire, Princess of Wyrdholding and leader of Greyrose. She sighs, cleaning the blood off her sword while she catches her breath. Bridget had nearly finished patching up what few injuries Quintin had sustained; speaking of the mercenary, his blood wasn’t stained or worn in the slightest. Claire shook her head in disbelief. How he hacked bloody paths through enemies without damaging his gear in the slightest always baffled her. Not that she and Micah wouldn;t exploit it shamelessly; he made a wonderful companion for recon. A last gurgle from the dying soldier draws her attention back to the situation, both at hand in in the world at large.  
This war between Eternia and Friegid was becoming problematic, both for the nations themselves and for Wyrdholding. With the neutral nation fending off constant raids by bandits and hungry troops of both sides, its own defenses were rapidly weakening. The war needed to end soon. Fortunately, the Crown had Greyrose for that.  
“Alright you two, finish looting the bodies. We’re heading back.” In truth, she was starting to get concerned. Micah was normally such a mother hen she’d be checking in every ten minutes (it’d be much more often if she didn’t have to rely on Forte to cast the communication spell.) “Come on, come on..” If something had happened to Micah… No. Micah had set up in a Tavern with only one ground entrance; she was good to handle anything short of a siege engine. A moment later, she felt the familiar tingle of Forte’s communication spell. The message was brief: Large number of bandits, come quietly, return quickly. Claire waves her escort over. “They need our help, come on.” Bridget looks disappointed at the looting being interrupted, but tosses the corpse aside.  
As they ran back into the woods, Claire could only wonder how much money they’d end up spending to restock after this. _‘If Forte has already used up that Nosferatu tome, I will end her, strategic value be damned.’_

************* 

Things were going less than stellar for Micah’s group. They had been doing fine before, while the Vulneraries lasted. Now though… Forte wasn’t worth being risked in melee, and the Physic staff was utterly depleted. The cavaliers worked best when they were both out in the field; having to swing by the tavern to get healed was robbing them of their ability to keep the enemy on the defensive, and even worst is made sure everyone knew where the Greyrose healer was.  
Fortunately, Forte could hide behind Micah, finishing off the enemies her tactician failed to kill. Two of the archers from the militia had come down to help guard the entrance, so no one was getting close enough to actually become a problem. But that would only last until the more experienced bandits got wind of resistance. She had seen a thief run off awhile ago; likely fetching reinforcements and someone better trained. Micah was very confident in the position she had chosen to defend, and even more in the people defending it; she doubted the bandits had anything that could get past. But if they decided that they didn’t need the tavern intact… Out in the open, the militia and the Greyrose would be doomed.  
Another bandit goes down in a hail of lightning and fire. Zoey is saved a nasty slash to the back when her assailant is filled with feathered shafts. Rhett sends a group of thieves flying with a sudden charge. Everything is going well. So why was she worried?  
Just as thought entered her brain, it was answered as Murphy returned from vacation to find her had missed a few inadvertent prayers. It set about answering them with gusto. This boundless enthusiasm took the shape of a mounted titan in a suit of armor cresting the hill over the town, with two hooded figures flanking him on either side. Micah nudges Forte. “Their leader approaches Forte. Get Signum ready.” Forte looks at her alarmed; understandable, considering Claire would actually try to kill them for using one of the Tome’s precious charges to deal with a common bandit. “If Claire doesn’t get back in time, I want you to use it. Call the cavaliers closer, I don’t want him picking them off while they’re cut off.”  
Forte nods, sending out commands. An archer and a Knight from the militia upstairs join them by the entrance as the Zoey and Rhett withdraw to the tavern. The bandit leader seems too busy shouting out his deeds to notice their movements, but the mages watch them with a careful eye.  
Her suspicions were confirmed a moment later when the mages, now confirmed Witches, teleported from his side to appear in the midst of two regrouping masses of bandits. Raising their staves, their magic washed away what injuries Greyrose had been able to make. The leader of the bandits- “It’s Barbarah! He’s here in person!”-was preparing to charge down the middle, likely while his Witches supported the two flanking forces. Two axes, two swords, and three pikemen on each side. But with the cavaliers by her side and the archers and Forte behind her, they could hold of _that._ No, what worried her was the mages, more specifically their healing. They could hold longer, even if they brought down the healer from upstairs. Sounds of clashing metal reached her ears, drifting down from the balcony above. Apparently the healer was already in use, rendering it a moot point. Right then. Time for prayers.  
The bandit force surged force, their Leader trying (and failing, thank you) to trample her under his horse; she instead forced him to either back off or lose his mount. Given the rarity of war horses in at the moment, he wisely chose to dart back. Meanwhile, her cavaliers fended off pikes, axes, and swords alike. Zoey and Rhett were good soldiers though, they’d hold. Especially with the lovely ranged support they had. _’If we survive this, we really ought to get an archer or two. The things I could do with a few bows.._ She dodges another thrust of the horseman’s spear, replying with a stream of fire. It didn’t hit him, but it didn’t need to; she just need to keep anyone from getting past her. Zoey manages to finish off a bandit before the Witches could him her. They appeared to take offense to that, as the beleaguered cavalier suddenly had to contend with the occasional blast of wind or fire alongside more mundane implements of war. This unfortunately left Micah taking more than her fair share of hits, as Forte worked to keep the much bigger targets and their mounts healed. Not for the first time, Micah wished that they would learn how to dodge better.  
The battle was fierce, and each of them were dealing with multiple opponents; a slip-up was both inevitable and unallowable. Rhett’s lance moved just a tad too slow, arms won out from forcing the pole through chest after chest. A sword took him in the side, and Micah knew they were doomed; even as Forte jumped to heal him he was already falling off his horse. The restoring light, denied a living target in the cavalier, jumped to Micah. It didn’t matter though; they were wide open. The horse bought them a small amount of time, careening through the enemy forces and trampling a few forces. It missed the mages though, who brought up the arms in unison, lethal energies gathering around their hands, aimed at Micah. She was the next logical target she supposed; Zoey was obviously not the kind to hold a corridor, and the bandits could not afford to let them retreat back to a chokepoint that Micah could hold by herself. Forte and the archers couldn’t help her, not when there were so many foot-soldiers to deal with. Micah had no one to help her but herself, and in her current state they only had to hit once.  
They take aimed, prepare to fire….  
… and slump to the ground as some familiar figures pull swords out of their chests.  
The Princess's group had arrived.

************* 

Claire absolutely _hated_ having go back through the woods the way they came; it went against all her experience as a scout. But they didn;t know the area well enough, and more importantly Micah _needed_ her. Or at least, Forte thought she did, which was good enough for Claire. Quintin and Bridget were, thankfully, able to keep pace with her. They were good men, she’d really have to buy them drinks if the tavern hadn’t been razed to the ground by the time they got back.  
Not for the first time, she truly regretted that Forte hadn’t had more time to teach her how to use her magic. Camouflage lost out to invisibility by a large margin when one had to move as fast as they were right now.  
At some point, Quintin had managed to pull in front of her; a month ago, she would’ve been annoyed by that. She could take care of herself, after all. She stopped complaining once Quintin nearly died to an arrow meant for her. _’Only time I’ve ever been thanked the height difference between us.’_  
She and Bridget heard the cries and clangs of battle shortly after their swordsman. Apparently Micah had been passing off the situation as better than it actually was, seeing as she was apparently being pushed back. Claire couldn’t see Rhett; that was bad. _’If they’ve killed him, not one of those deserters will live this hamlet alive..’_ Quintin gestured to the enemy witch on the right. Claire nodded, drawing her sword and sneaking up behind the enemy. Micha had them totally focused on the entrance; apparently the deserters hadn’t seen enough battle to think to post a rear guard.  
The unsuspecting caster went down rather quickly, all things considered. Her allies’ avenging swipes passing harmlessly through the image she had left to cover her escape. They had to do this very carefully; unlike Micah, they had no way to stop the enemy from going past them towards their healer. Fortunately, Greyrose was not a band of idiots, and Bridget was staying back, Lightning in hand. He was hardly the ideal rearguard, but it’d work for a bit.  
The expression of relief on Micah’s face would be worth several amusing hours back and camp, but for now Claire was just glad that her tactician had realized she had reinforcements. They knew each other well enough that- Ah, there it was. Taking advantage of the sudden hesitation of the enemy forces, Micha, forte, and what looked to be two militia archers had blasted the enemy cavalier off his horse; he didn’t move when he hit the grass. _’Good riddance.’_ HAving had both their leaders and their healers go down in roughly the same moment, the bandit formation had been thrown into disarray. Perhaps in other circumstances, they might’ve been allowed to flee, but Claire had spotted Rhett on the ground in a pool of blood, and Micah wanted gold to replenish their supplies. Not one of the attackers made it out of the village.

*************

Greyrose had more or less claimed the upstairs area of the tavern after the battle. The villagers didn’t complain too much, since not only had the Wyrdholders let them have all the scrap metal (on the condition they got some free repairs of course, but there was more than enough metal for that) from the defeated bandits. Forte was off cataloguing what few weapons they had decided to keep, and generally doing quartermaster-y things.  
In contrast to their far more productive lieutenant, Claire and Micah were at a table in the corner getting very drunk off of terrible wine. Quintin and one of the militia archers had gone off to one of the rooms, while Bridget had explained (yet again, dammit) to a very embarrassed militia man why he didn’t have a “box and tackle.” The village healer appeared to take some glee at the archer’s fervent desire to shove his foot in his mouth. Zoey was presumably off mourning the loss of her fellow cavalier; Forte had said she’d keep an eye on her, make sure nothing untoward happened.  
That left the Princess and her Tactician free to silently glower at each, a silent debate on who got to scold other taking place. Eventually, Claire won. “You should’ve told me you were under attack sooner.” Micah groans, taking another swig of the bottle. “It was fine Claire.” Claire does not deck her Tactician, but a few more bottles and she might. “What do you mean ‘it was fine’?! Rhett _died_!” Micah sighs, moving the candle out of the way so she could lay on the table. “People die Claire. This war.” Not for the first time, Micah wished Claire’s name could be shortened to an overly familiar nickname. At least then she would have a response when her Princess called her- “Mickey, putting aside the fact that he was our friend-” _’because I know you barely have the capacity to understand that’_ “-we do not have the strength of numbers to lose experienced soldiers this early on in our assignment. The Crown-” She never called them Mother and Father, not when they hadn’t raised her “-is counting on us to deal with this war!” _That_ manages to get a rise out of the disgruntled tactician, who drags herself upright to respond. “Fine. I’ll be more careful next time Your Highness.” she takes another sip, putting her argument together carefully. “It isn’t as though I delayed as long as possible. I had Forte call you as soon as the bulk of the enemy force showed up.” that answer was apparently not good enough for Claire, as she folds her arms with a vaguely disappointed look. Micah cringes. “That’s not good enough Mickey, and you know it. My scouting mission was not as important as conserving a seventh of our forces, and a mainline fighter to put.” She hates putting everything in terms of tactics, wants to shake Micah for not considering the fact that their friend, someone they _knew_ died because Micah delayed the call. But she doesn’t. She stopped doing that the first few times. It wasn’t the way to convince Micah she was wrong, or at least less right (as the case was here.) “Claire, listen to me. Pleease. It didn’t seem like you intervention was needed at first” she cuts off her Princes in the middle of an angry interjection. “ _Let me finish m’Lady._ It was only five bandits at first, and we had no reason to think a settlement this size would warrant _twenty-three_ , much less the arrival of their leader and his followers.” That fortunately gives Claire pause, shifting her focus from being angry at Micah to wondering why they had been attacked by such a large force. “That _is_ odd, isn’t it? Did the leader really fear soldiers being in the area that much, that crushing them was worth risking his own skin?” “Perhaps he isn’t truly the leader, and is in fact part of a larger group.” Claire looks over at her Tactician, a trace of disbelief in her voice. “You’re suggesting that someone out there can hold together a force of deserters larger than twenty-three? This is a group made of people fleeing regimented lifestyles, is not?” “It depends on the individuals, but it **is** a possibility; it’s been done before, in fact.”  
Claire sighs, leaning back in her chair and draining the bottle. “I suppose we’ll have to look into at some point. First though, we have to deal with are next target.” Micah leans forward, propping her head in her hands and her elbows on the table. “Next target? Then you found something?” Claire grins, flipping the bottle end o’er end and catching it in her hand. “Eternia hs a fort near here, and from what I’ve seen Friegid has its eye on it. If Friegid gains a foothold here…” “... Then their northern offensive will weaken. They’ll have to redistribute, maybe even marshall a force to take it back. Either way, Wyrdholding will have time to reinforce the border.”  
“Yep. And more importantly, have a rookery we can use.” “Oh? Is it nearly that time already?”  
“It’s been a week since the last missive Micah. It’s time to call on the Crown.”  
**Supplies Gained:**  
> Javelin  
> Steel Lance  
> Vulnerary x 5  
> Lancereaver

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all liked what you've seen so far! This is my first attempt at real fanfiction, so please be gentle. For those of you that are confused, this is not an AU of any specific installment of Fire Emblem. This is more likely a novelization of a Fire Emblem game written by yours truly.


End file.
